Lath'asha Fen'Harel
by taekemeaway
Summary: There was once a woman, pure and wise. She stood by the Dread Wolf for years as a trusted friend, saved by him when she was just a maiden, and remained with him for decades in his fight to free the Elvhen from their enslavement. And while she'd deny it, she was the one to save Fen'Harel when he needed it most. / Solavellan, Arlathan
1. Prologue

**Lath'asha Fen'Harel**

 _The Bride of Fen'Harel_

* * *

It was a quiet day for the occupants of Skyhold. The soldiers had moved down the mountainside to train on more open land, even Sera was quietly skulking around the barricades. She was surely rigging some sort of prank but otherwise remaining silent, something even odder still. And Cassandra had elected to striking one of the practice targets instead of yelling obscenities at nobles who insisted on bothering her.

And sitting peacefully in his armchair, reading a report that had been delivered by one of his agents was Solas; the Dread Wolf.

Suddenly he set down the report. He sighed at the broken Elvhen and truly wished that he had the time to teach his people the language properly so it wouldn't give him the skull shattering headache he was becoming so accustomed to. Taking his mind off it, he looked up at the new fresco he'd finished painting not moments before, of a young elf dancing in an elegant silver gown, and two women leading the future of an empire, hand in young elf was at the centre of a large crowd, spinning in circles and little glimmers of crystals following herwherever her dress went, human nobles gazing upon her in awe. In the distance stood a single male elf, content to even bask in her undefinable beauty.

"Solas, can you take a look at this?"

His musings were disrupted briefly. He gazed up at the rookery, towards the voice beckoning his attention. It was the woman who caused him to change everything, his plans, his wants, his dreams, a woman who'd danced the night away, who had played the game of human politics so expertly. And perhaps most importantly of all, a woman who had hiked a silver floor length gown up to her knees so she could climb a trellis in the middle of the most prestigious ball of the age.

Lanna Lavellan, his heart.

"What is it, if I may ask?" He inquired as she attached a rolled parchment to the leg of one of the Nightingale's crows.

As she finished the tie, she explained. "It's something I found hidden away in the Winter Palace, and it's completely in Elvhen. If anyone can understand it, it's you."

With a smile, she sent the crow on the short trip down to the rotunda. The bird perched itself on Solas's arm as he undid the string around its leg. It wasn't a long piece, surely any Dalish elf could figure out most of the meaning, but it was the title that gave him pause.

"Lath'asha Fen'Harel…" He whispered to himself, pain ebbed into his voice.

Memories of a warm light cloud his senses, of a young elf with auburn hair dusting her pale fingers against his jawline and whispering words of affection he didn't believe he deserved. She dances away, holding out her hand for him to hold, and as he reaches out for it he smiles, completely at peace. Then the memory quickly changes, there's a lifeless body in his arms, blood spilling out from her pale lips as they slowly turn blue. Hergreen eyes stare up at him in acceptance, acceptance of her fate as they eventually flutter closed and his first true vhenan is lost to him forever. _Taken_.

"So? Can you translate it?"

He was momentarily startled by Lanna's sudden presence, but he never let something like that affect his demeanour. "Yes, where did you find this exactly?"

"It was in some storage room full of broken mirrors." She explained. "There were others, but they'd been burned pretty severely."

 _Eluvians._ He mused to himself. _These are probably her notes._

In truth, there was once what one may call a bride to the rebel God, but she was far more than that. She was a woman, simple and pure, beautiful and tenacious, who had caused pride to kneel. He loved her before the Veil, he loved her smile, her aura, her stories, and he never dreamed that her words would've survived all those years. In truth, he hadn't even known that she had started to pen her latest tale before he lost her.

" _I want the People to remember you for who you truly are, ma sa lath, can you blame me?"_

But then he wondered, would Lanna believe in the words written on that page? Of the dreaded Fen'Harel being something more than a nightmare, than the tales her clan had told her? Would she accept that he was a man, one that wasn't malicious or cruel, one that wished the best for the People, one that fell in love and knew true happiness?

"Vhenan," He started, "you've been accepting of Elvhen truth before, would you mind hearing this story and could you bear the same acceptance?"

She cocked her head to the side. "Of course, have I ever given you reason to think otherwise?"

He shook his head. "No, you haven't. But the story – it's called, _The Bride of Fen'Harel._ "

Her eyes widened suddenly. "As in – _no_ –are you quite sure?"

"Yes." He admitted. "Would you care to listen to it?"

"How is that even a question!" She exclaimed with joy, rushing over to the red settee and curling up in her usual spot.

Solas chuckled to himself quietly, taking up his spot next to her. "Alright, vhenan, as you wish.

" _Whoever finds this, I shall have you know that this is the pure and undeniable truth. And while this story bears the name of the woman that the Dread Wolf fell in love with, the contents therein are about the man himself_ _. Of_ _a man commonly seen as a trickster and a deviant, as the harbinger of doom and ruin, and of chaos and destruction itself._

" _This man was no such thing, he was clever, yes, but he was, at his heart, kind and just. He wished the best for the People, freeing them from their bonds and wiping the marks of their voluntary slavery from their faces. He, in fact, freed me as well. A debt I could never hope to repay."_

"This is incredible." Lanna said in awe, looking up at Solas with that spark in her eyes. "It's so rare to find text about our Pantheon, and this sounds like it was before the fall of Arlathan! The author doesn't mention Fen'Harel's betrayal or the destruction of the empire, perhaps… oops I interrupted you, is there more?"

He nodded. "There's a small portion left, but it doesn't bare anything of note."

Huffing in displeasure, the Inquisitor crossed her arms with a sour look on her face. "Figures. If only the rest of it hadn't been burned beyond recognition."

"If it's any conciliation," He started tentatively, "I'm familiar with the tale."

Lanna's eyes nearly popped from her skull. "What! You've got to tell me what happened to the Bride!"

"She –" He tried to say but got caught on the words. The wound was still far too fresh. "Perhaps another time, vhenan. I'm sure there are other things that require your attention."

Her jaw dropped. "You're – you can't just say something like that and then dismiss me!" She laughed. "But you're probably right, I haven't written the reports from our adventure through the Dirth, yet. Sooner or later Cullen or Leliana are going to want them."

She gave her lover a quick kiss before heading for the stairs. "I'll be back for more of the story later, if you're still willing to tell it."

He nodded slowly and watched her disappear, the warmth of her spirit still lingering on his skin. She sensed his hesitation and gave him a way out. If only he understood himself that well. Feeling exasperated he threw his head back over the settee, wondering how to tell her about his former bride without giving away his identity or shattering his still healing heart. Eventually she would question how he knew of the tale, and he could only say "I've seen it in the Fade" so many times before shewould start to doubt.

It wasn't a lie, for everything used to be part of the Fade, but Lanna didn't know that either. Keeping his plans and his identity a secret from her was getting more and more difficult as each day passed. She was so understanding, so kind, and irrevocably in love with him. He was almost certain she'd still accept him and he wanted to give her everything because he had already taken everything from her.

She would die by the mark given to her by his orb and it would be his fault. He tried to ignore it, the guilt, but she reminded him of his bride. Of the first woman to capture his heart and bare it alongside her own, of the first woman to distract him from the Fade, of the first love that he drove to slaughter. Of his beautiful Isha.


	2. I

**Lath'asha Fen'Harel**

I

* * *

Once, his job was easy. Freedom was a thing most of his people had strived for. He'd appear in the night, freeing slaves from their unsuspecting masters, and whisk them away through his private labyrinth of Eluvians. They'd thank him, sing his praise, and continue to live their lives in relative peace as free men and women. Truly his job was easy. Once.

But now, the People, _his_ people, would willingly bow their heads to beings they believed to be gods. Enslaving themselves to powerful mages and they would even call it a penance. They'd mar their faces in devotion to them, present them with offerings in the hopes of earning their favour. The idea sickened him, and he was surrounded by it. Surrounded by those who willingly threw away their freedom to "gods"; most of whom were barely worth the dirt they trod upon.

In truth, he was growing tired of it all. Tired of fighting tooth and nail to have his people believe in the truth that he would lay before them. For they'd refuse to see it. Blinded by their faith. Now, the People have even forgotten what he represented. Rebellion, freedom, Fen'Harel. He was turning into nothing but a nightmare parents warned their children of, "May the Dread Wolf never catch your scent". No longer did slaves cry out into the night, begging for freedom, for they already believed themselves to be free. A laughable lie.

 _Everything_ was easy. And he was good at what he did. But for the last several centuries, he did almost nothing. He had resigned himself to his realm, staving off boredom with drink and the company of those he hadn't bothered to remember. There wasn't much left of Fen'Harel, of Solas, and it was as if he hadn't a care anymore. And, honestly, he didn't. He didn't care one way or another, about anything.

"Your aura is whirling, what troubles you my friend?"

He had been absentmindedly controlling the light illuminating his quarters when he was visited by one of his friends, one of the few he had left. She darted around him, a wisp of blush smoke, tickling the underside of his chin as she did what she could to distract him.

"I apologise, lethallan." He lamented, holding out a hand to her. "It's nothing beyond the usual bother, I didn't mean to disturb you."

She had no physical form, but he could tell she wasn't pleased. "Then why do you sit here and wallow? Especially when you want nothing more than to save your people from the Evanuris's clutches?"

He sighed, standing and crossing the room to a window overlooking his grounds. There were families there, children tossing autumn leaves into the air and jumping for joy as they descended back down towards the ground. Their parents watching on, pure love colouring their faces, peace. It was an image of pure peace, one that he had achieved. A smile threatened his lips before he turned back to face his friend.

"You know my power has weakened while theirs has only increased. The People have forgotten what I truly am, I've become nothing but a folktale in their eyes." He tried to explain.

Suddenly he felt a warmth wrap around him. "You will rise again, when they need you most."

He chuckled quietly. "Such confidence. If only it were that simple."

"Sometimes, lethallin, it _is_ that simple."

His friend, she was a spirit of hope. Whenever he felt at his worst, practically swimming in doubt and self-deprecation, she would be there to give him that little glimmer of hope to get him through. She diverted his attention back out the window, to a small girl carried in her mother's arms being lulled quietly to sleep.

"This child, she would not have been born without you. That is true, is it not?" She asked, knowing full well that is was.

"Yes." He said almost affectionately. "Her mother was a pet to one of Elgar'nan's followers. The All-Father did nothing when she called to him, so she came to me instead." He paused to smile. "That was almost a thousand years ago, I forgot how quickly time passes."

She let out a quiet laugh. "See? You _are_ there, when they truly need you. That time has yet to come again for the People, but it will."

Of course, she was right, she always was. He just had to bring himself to believe it.

Still, he was hesitant, and she sensed that. "Come, let's travel the roads and see what we can do to help. Will that put your mind at ease?"

He shrugged. "Perhaps."

"Would it hurt to try?" She teased, swirling around him.

He chuckled despite himself. "No, it wouldn't. Shall we?"

With a broad gesture to one of the Eluvians scattered throughout his keep, he held up one of his many relics and the doorway into the Vir Eluvian opened for them. They both stepped through, their forms changing into something far more familiar to them. Solas took the form of the wolf he had become so fond of, and she turned into a graceful swallow, a symbol of what she was.

They carefully trekked through the mist, staying out of sight in case there was still someone out there who recognised him. Men and women passed without a care in the world, heading to Arlathan, more likely than not, gossiping about one thing or another. Nothing stuck out, nothing grabbed his attention. No masters mistreating their slaves, no wrongs that required his attention, nothing at all. That is until he passed an Eluvian to one of Andruil's shrines.

"Andruil requires your sacrifice, this is a great honour."

Solas almost couldn't resist retching. _Andruil. The Mad Huntress. Her depravity knows no bounds._

Of all the Pantheon, Andruil sickened him the most. Each was corrupt in their own right, but it was the Huntress that didn't even bother to pretend, she even revelled in what she could make the People do for her. She had asked for sacrifices long ago, claiming she needed the power to cross into the Banalhan to destroy the Forgotten Ones. The one prey she could not find.

In truth, thousands of lives were wasted in her name, and he could do nothing to help. They gave themselves over to Andruil willingly, he wouldn't do anything to rob the People of freewill. That was precisely what he fought for. But, not all sacrifices were truly willing.

"No master, please! I'll do better, I promise!"

His ears perked at the pleas for mercy and he practically leapt into action. He returned to his elvhen form and threw open the passage into the shrine in one fluid motion. Before him, standing at a statue of the mad Huntress herself, was the master in question. His hands were drenched in the blood of the slain servant at his feet, and that was all the Dread Wolf needed to know. Solas didn't hesitate, he killed the man where he stood, freezing him in stone and shattering it not a moment after.

"Dirthara ma, seth'lin." Solas swore under his breath.

Behind him, he could feel hope approaching. Her warmth enveloped him, putting his wild mind at ease.

"Ir abelas, lethallan." He sighed. "You did not need to witness that, but I couldn't –"

"H-halani…"

 _The slave, she still draws breath_. His eyes widened and he dropped to his knees to aid her, using his magic to seal the shallow gash to her neck. She gasped and sputtered out the leftover blood before looking up at him in awe.

"You –" She wheezed. "You saved me… but I am just…"

"Yes." He nodded, cutting her off and continuing to heal her. "You are safe now."

She coughed once more. "Wh-who are you?"

"You may call me Solas." He smiled. "Now, let's get you back to my –"

"Wait!" She interrupted. "There's more of us. Please, you have to save them."

His expression steeled. "Where are they."

"They're in Andruil's realm. They went straight to her doorstep, but not everyone was willing to be a sacrifice, this isn't right! They're our Pantheon, they mustn't –"

"I know, da'len." He tried to ease her. "I will rescue them. But first, you must know how to pass into _my_ realm. There is a labyrinth of Eluvians that most cannot access, they will lead to there. The password to grant you passage is, 'Fen'Harel ma ghilana'."

She furrowed her brow. "May the Dread Wolf – you're…!"

"Yes," He nodded, "but now I must go and help your friends, do you understand?"

"Yes, yes! Thank you so much!"

With a few more words passed between them, Hope agreed to guide her back safely while he dealt with Andruil. For a moment, that fire erupted within him. The one that allowed him to save thousands of slaves, before it all changed. He felt his magical energy wafting off of him, ready to strike the Huntress down, if that's what needed to be done. He stormed back through the doorway, shifting into his wolf form in a flash and bounding towards the Huntress's realm as if flames were licking at his heels.

People shrieked as he passed, muttering the insult the Evanuris gave to him long ago, he didn't pay them any heed, he simply continued on until he came to the Eluvian to Andruil's and Ghilan'nain's realm. With a great surge of magic, the doorway opened and he entered the Great Adahlen, where Andruil spent most of her time hunting whatever sort of monster she could think to summon.

And where Solas would meet the woman that would change everything.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Any questions, don't be afraid to ask. Especially about these words I'm inventing.**


End file.
